Roses
by TiCkLeD PiNk89
Summary: When a secret admirer turns out to be a dangerous stalker, Hermione realizes that she needs more than just her wand. “You?” she asked, “Great, I’m going to need somebody to protect me from my protector.” Roses are beautiful, until you find the thorns.dmhg
1. The First Task of Admiration

Summary: Hermione Granger had it all the summer of her 6th year, or so she thought. When a secret admirer turns out to be a dangerous stalker, Hermione realizes that she needs more than just her wand. Who will be assigned to help her? And will it be strictly a business relationship? Roses are beautiful, until you find the thorns.

DISCLAMIER: The ideas in this story are all my own; any overlapping ideas with any other story on fanfiction.net are purely unintentional. Some characters are my own, and all the original ones belong to JK Rowling/Warner Bros.

Chapter 1: The First Task of Admiration

Date: June 23, 2004, only four weeks after the last day of her 6th school year at Hogwarts.

Time: 1:00 PM

Subject: Hermione Granger

Event: The Magical Showplace

Place: The Show Room, Rosewood Hall, London, England

Blinding, bright flashes went off in her face as she walked down the sleek runway. Her smile never wavered, and her pearly white teeth contrasted against her tan, flawless complexion. Her look was lacquered, and she presented herself well.

She could feel her pulchritudinous dress sway against her legs as she glided towards the end of the runway; the sheer fabric caressing her like a lover's touch.

Hermione's greatest beauty was not her appearance, though; it was her blindness of her distinctive characteristics.

Now at the end of the runway, Hermione waved her polished wand and spoke, "mirabile visu", with the boldness of a lion, and delicacy of a butterfly. A pinkish red vapor spewed from her wand in a stream, and kept floating until it was 5 feet above her wand. It crackled, then popped, as an ornate, heart shaped cloud silhouetted her figure.

There was oh-ing and ah-ing from the crowd as a polite applause filtered through the show room. Hermione could even distinguish a few whistles.

Hermione beamed. This was only her first year of charm modeling, and she was already a huge success. Who would have thought that Hermione Granger would be presenting this year's newest charms at the Magical Showplace, the biggest and grandest charm modeling event of the year.

She spun around expertly and began the fluttery walk back down the runway and past the other, jealous, but equally beautiful, models.

xoxo

Hermione made her way back to her dressing room with what seemed like a million, "amazing!", "that was an incredible performance!", or "if you ever need another agent, here's my number,". Hermione's agent met her at her door.

"Hermione, Darling!" Amelie, her flamboyant agent cooed, "You were magnificent!" she tried to embrace Hermione in a hug, who in return gave her a quick peck on the cheek and pushed her away.

"Thanks," Hermione mumbled, then, more coherently, "I wouldn't have been able to do it without the countless hours you spent helping me master that charm."

It was true; Amelie has strained practicing the charm over and over for at least 3 hours a day, for a month before the show case.

Amelie missed Hermione's sarcasm. "Oh, Honey, it was both of our successes! Now, it seems to me that lucky you have an admirer."

"What? A secret admirer?" Hermione asked, curiously. She didn't have a boyfriend, and she certainly didn't think she had a secret admirer.

"I never said secret. Is it your boyfriend?" Amelie said, sounding a tad nonchalant.

"I'm single," Hermione said, a little embarrassed.

"Oh, I see."

"How did you know I have flowers," Hermione asked, taking her room key from Amelie's outstretched hand.

"I was grabbing my purse from your dressing room and I found a bouquet of flowers on your vanity. Quite lovely, if I may say so myself."

Hermione opened the door, after fumbling with the key and was welcomed with the scent of roses of every color. Hermione, stepped back, overwhelmed with the dozens of roses occupying her room. Every inch of the room seemed to be covered in roses and rose petals.

"Oh my," Amelie blanched, "these weren't all here when I came in."

Hermione, ignoring Amelie's comment, walked cautiously into the room and made a straight dash for her purse. Looking inside, she found all of her credit cards intact.

As she was putting her wallet back in her purse, Amelie cried out, "There's a card, Hermione, dear. Read what it says!"

Hermione zipped up her purse and walked over to Amelie, who was holding a small white card in her hand, "Here you go, dear."

Hermione slowly opened the card, and glanced at it before reading it outloud. Written in small, neat cursive was:

"_The red rose whispers in passion,_

_And the white rose breathes of love;_

_O, the red rose is a falcon,_

_And the white rose is a dove_."

Hermione paused before she continued, allowing the poem to sink in, "_My Dearest Dove, Your beauty reverberates through the halls of Hogwarts; never allow otherwise. I will wait for you until I feel the time is right to reveal myself. Until then, let each rose remind you of every time I have thought, and will continue to think, about you. Love, Your Falcon_."

Hermione blanched and dropped the card, watching it flutter to the ground.

Amelie's voice broke the stilled silence, "What should we do?"

Hermione replied in a quavering voice, "Nothing," after pausing for a few eternal seconds, she finished, "yet."

xoxo

A/N: Ta-da! What do you think?!? Please review and I will love you forever! No flames please, those always burn.

-Pink

Poem by: John Boyle O'Reilly


	2. The Second Task of Admiration

Summary: Hermione Granger had it all the summer of her 6th year, or so she thought. When a secret admirer turns out to be a dangerous stalker, Hermione realizes that she needs more than just her wand. Who will be assigned to help her? And will it be strictly a business relationship? Roses are beautiful, until you find the thorns.

DISCLAMIER: The ideas in this story are all my own; any overlapping ideas with any other story on fanfiction.net are purely unintentional. Some characters are my own, and all the original ones belong to JK Rowling/Warner Bros.

Chapter 2: The Second Task of Admiration

Date: July 16, 2004

Time: 8:30 PM

Subject: Hermione Granger

Event: Just back from a night out with the girls

Place: The Granger's Apartment, Surrey, England

2…

3…

4…

5…

6… Hermione stepped out of the elevator leading to her parent's muggle apartment. As she walked down carpeted hallway, she fumbled through her purse looking for the key to the apartment. As she rearranged everything trying to find it, she accidentally knocked the small, white card from her purse.

"What the…" Hermione's voice trailed off as she quickly glanced over the card. As she opened it, a red rose petal fell out of it. 'Must have gotten stuck in there from when I opened it in the room," she thought.

She hadn't thought about the "rose incident" ever since that day. She knew it wasn't terribly unusual for the models to get flowers after their show, so she didn't think anything but flattery after the extravagant bouquet.

Once Hermione got inside of her room, she threw her purse on the wicker chair by the island and picked up the cordless phone from its hook by the clock.

She had promised Ginny (it was more of Mrs. Weasley's request) that she would call her as soon as she got home. Hermione's parents were at a dentistry conference in Paris, and leaving Hermione alone had fired up Mrs. Weasley's worry for her.

Because of Mr. Weasley's job, the Weasley's were one of the few wizarding families with a telephone that connected to the muggle world.

Ring…ring…ring…

"Hello?" Hermione heard Ginny's voice come in on the other line.

"Hey Gin, I'm home," Hermione said into the phone.

"Good," Hermione heard Mrs. Weasley's voice yelling at Ginny on the other end, "my mum wants to know if you need anything," more yelling, "and if you do, she can floo right over. Or, if you want, you can spend the night over here at the Burrow."

Hermione plopped down on the overstuffed velvet couch and grabbed the telly, her favorite part about being muggle born, remote. "Nope, I think I'm fine," Hermione turned on the TV and clicked mute.

"Are you positive?" Ginny asked, concerned for her parentless-for-a-weekend friend.

"Yeah. Is Ron there? I want to talk to him," Hermione asked.

"I think so, but then again, I never know where he is. Probably off getting into trouble. Harry's here too, ya know. Hold on a sec, I'll get him," Hermione heard Ginny yell, "RONALD WEASLEY! Hermione wants to talk to you!" right up against the phone, causing what promised to be a painful earache.

"Ello? Hermione?" Ron asked in his cute, but more masculine than before, voice.

"Ron is that you?" Hermione asked.

"Yep," Hermione heard Harry say something about being acknowledged, so Ron added, "and Harry too!"

"Hey Harry," Hermione said excitedly; it was the first time she had been able to talk to her two best friends all summer.

"How's your summer been going?" Harry asked.

"It's been busy…" Hermione trailed off.

"Busy? How so? I know you've been doing that charm modeling, but how much of your summer can it take up?" Ron asked.

When there was no answer, Ron asked again, "Hermione? Are you still there?"

"Shhhhh!" Hermione's hoarse voice came onto the phone.

"Are you okay, Mione?" Harry asked.

"Hold on boys," Hermione said, in a harsh whisper.

Ron heard a click on the other line, and the muted humming of an empty phone line. "She hung up," he told Harry.

"Do you think she is okay?" Harry asked, sitting up from where he was reclining in a chair.

"I don't know. Maybe we should call her back?" Ron asked.

Ron dialed Hermione's number, and heard someone pick up. "Hermione!"

Instead of being greeted by the familiar voice of his friend, he heard Mrs. Granger's voice come on, "Hello, you've reached the Granger's. None of us are able to pick up the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, we'll be able to get back to you as soon as we can. Ta!"

"Is it her?" Harry asked anxiously.

"No, it was a recording," Ron replied, sullenly.

Ginny walked into the room, carrying the "WW2 (Witch Weekly Twice a Year)" magazine. "Is Hermione still there? I forgot to ask her who she voted for for the new issue of WW2?"

"She hung up," Harry replied, morosely.

"What's the matter with you two," Ginny noted the boys' melancholy behavior.

Before they could answer, the phone rung, sending both boys running to go pick it up.

"Hello?" Ron asked, fretfully.

"Ron?" a quivering voice identified to be Hermione's answered.

"Ask her if she is okay and why she hung up!" Harry told Ron.

"Are you okay? Why did you hang up on us?" Ron asked, repeating Harry's concerns.

"Ron," Hermione's voice, weary with worry ignored the questions, and instead replied, "can you tell Ginny I want to take her up on her offer about spending the night at the Burrow?"

"Okay…" Ron said cautiously, "Harry and I will be right over to help you get your stuff as long as you promise to tell us what happened. K?"

"Uh-huh," Hermione said.

Once Ron had hung up, Hermione added, "Please hurry."

xoxo

When Hermione arrived, Mrs. Weasley was busy in the kitchen twirling her wand around watching the pots on the stove bubble.

"Oh good Hermione, you are finally here! Ginny will you be a dear and set another place at the table for Hermione?" Obviously Mrs. Weasley hadn't been informed on the latest events.

"Sure, Mum," Ginny replied, and pulled out a checkered placemat and the proper silverware.

Once Hermione's overnight bag was put in Ginny's room on the spare bed and everyone was seated at the table, did everyone begin to ask questions.

"Why did you hang up?"

"Are you okay?"

"One question at a time!" Hermione yelled over the commotion.

"What is the matter Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows; her motherly instincts sensing that something was wrong.

"Okay, I'll tell you all," Hermione began.

Harry gave her a suspicious look, but didn't say anything.

"I was talking to Ron and Harry on the phone…"

Flashback

"How's your summer been going?" Harry asked.

"It's been busy…" Hermione trailed off.

"Busy? How so? I know you've been doing that charm modeling, but how much of your summer can it take up?" Ron asked.

When there was no answer, Ron asked again, "Hermione? Are you still there?"

Hermione could hear the soft rustle of paper coming from down the hall.

"Shhhhh!" Hermione's hoarse voice came onto the phone.

"Are you okay, Mione?" Harry asked.

The noise came from down the hall, except this time it was the sound of her bedroom window slamming shut.

"Hold on boys," Hermione said, in a harsh whisper.

A long whistle, sounded through the large apartment. 'Must be the wind,' Hermione thought, feeling her heart begin to beat faster.

Hermione clicked the phone off, forgetting who she was talking too, and slowly got up from where she was sitting, turning off the TV at the same time.

Pulling her wand out of its leather case, Hermione tip-toed her way down the hall leading towards her parents' and her bedrooms. The first room was hers. Feeling her heat beat at an abnormally fast pace, Hermione reached out for the brass doorknob.

End Flashback

"When I opened the door, I first noticed my bedroom window open half way, with the curtains swaying in the wind. My bed was covered in coral colored rose petals…" Hermione paused, as if recollecting her memory.

"Go on," Ginny urged her friend.

The suspense in the room was so thick, that Harry thought he could cut it with a knife.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione continued, "Rose petals just like the ones I found in my dressing room was after my performance at the Magical Showplace, except they were different colors this time."

"What happened there?" Ron asked, wanting to know what was up with all the roses.

Hermione briefly explained how she had found all of the roses in her dressing room.

"What did you do with them?" Ginny asked, jealous of her friend.

"I left them there. I had no way to get them back home," Hermione answered, carefully choosing her words.

"Was there anything else that your admirer left?" Mrs. Weasley inquired.

"Yes, actually. He left another letter," Hermione said, as she excused herself from the table to go fish the letter out of her purse.

Hermoine returned to the table, "Here it is. It's another poem, kind of like the first one he gave me."

"_A flower was offered to me:  
Such a flower as May never bore.  
But I said "I've a Pretty Rose-tree",  
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.  
  
Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree:  
To tend her by day and by night.  
But my Rose turn'd away with jealousy:  
And her thorns were my only delight_."

"Then he left a little note," Hermione continued, after she read the poem, "_My Pretty Rose-tree, I expected you to be more welcoming of the gift of roses that bestowed on you. Instead, I later found them wilting in your dressing room. You will_ hear _from me again, but not in person. Yours truly_."

Hermione quickly folded it back up and placed it back in her purse.

"What a freak," Ron mumbled beneath his breath.

"Hush, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley scolded her son.

They finished dinner in silence, each pondering on Hermione's mysterious admirer.

The silence was broken by Mrs. Weasley. "Hermione, you do know what a coral colored rose means, right, dear?"

Hermione looked up from her plate and turned towards Mrs. Weasley, giving her her full attention. "No…" Hermione said, very slowly.

"Well, if I can remember correctly back from my Herbology class at Hogwarts," Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded forced as she continued, "each color rose symbolizes something. It used to be a way to write love letters, and a coral rose means," Mrs. Weasley paused again. She wasn't sure if she should tell Hermione what it really meant. It might scare the frightened girl.

"Please go on, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione strained.

Mrs. Weasley gave Hermione a questioning look before she finished her thought, " a coral rose means desire." She let out a deep breath. There, she had said it.

Hermione's silver fork crashed down on her ceramic plate. She pushed her chair out, the seat cushion falling to the floor, and stood up quickly, feeling the blood rush to her head. "This is a scrumptious dinner, Mrs. Weasley, and I want to thank you so much for allowing me to stay here overnight, but I think I am going to retire for the evening. This whole 'rose ordeal' has caused me to loose my appetite."

Hermione took her plate and set it in the sink so Mrs. Weasley could magically clean it, then ran upstairs to her's and Ginny's room. She opened the door and flopped down onto the bed, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she saw a single coral rose magically taped to the ceiling.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" Hermione screamed. Sitting straight up in bed, she had a perfect view of the magic mirror across the room, which showed the reflection of a person flying away on a broomstick. And the unmistakable glimpse of blonde hair- or was that a shooting star?

Hermione heard the thumping of Harry and Ron running up the stair followed by the less boisterous pitter-patter of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny running up the stairs.

"HERMIONE!" Harry and Ron yelled as they burst in the room.

Ginny squeezed in-between her brother and his friend over to comfort her friend. "What is it, Mione?" Ginny asked, concern etched across her face.

Hermione looked up to the ceiling, knowing that the four pairs of eyes would follow her lead. "He knows I'm here," Hermione whispered.

In a meek voice, Mrs. Weasley replied to no one in particular, "Of course he does. Most admirers don't give up too easily on their affections, and it looks like your's won't either."

xoxo

A/N: Well, what do you think? Do you like where it's going? I've spent all day writing this, so I sure hope so! Oh and by the way, the poem was by William Blake; it is titled My Pretty Rose-Tree. Also, I didn't know if you guys caught on that the beginning part where I mention the date/time etc. is supposed to immitate a crime report, since this does have to do with a stalker and such...

Thanks for all the reviews! I was jumping up and down everytime I saw "Review Alert" in my mailbox. I can't tell you how happy they made me: FlamingArrow a.k.a.GinnyWeasly, Courtney11989, BewitchingWitch, and SwimGoddess.

BlueFlameAngel: I'm sorry if you think I portray the wrong image of Hermione. Hermione is a lot older in this fic than she is in the book, and people change, so I decided to make Hermione pretty. Also, when I had typed it up on a word document, everything was indented and it looked normal, but when I posted it, it somehow got messed up. Sorry it was hard to read.

Draco's Voice: The rest is coming! Never fear; I like cliff hangers!

Amoria: I'm glad you like fluffy stories! I'll try to make it fluffy in later chapters when Draco comes into the picture. I'm sorry, but I don't know the name of the poem; I just found it on google.

AmyShaw: Don't worry, I will love you forever! Haha, I'm lover number 5, right? LOL.. thanks for your constant support with all of my stories and crazy ideas!

Venus725: I am def. a DM/HG shipper, so don't worry there will be some action with them. And with Draco being the stalker, hmm… all I can say is, "never fear, Draco is not the bad guy!" So you promised a review next time? Hehe! I love long reviews!

Ku: Sorry if you didn't like the long word (pulchritudinous); I was having a little too much fun with the thesaurus! Hermione is a _charm_ model, so she needs to be smart and capable yet pretty at the same time. I will try my hardest not to rush anything, but sometimes I get so caught up in my writing that it all spills out too fast.


	3. The Third Task of Admiration

Summary: Hermione Granger had it all the summer of her 6th year, or so she thought. When a secret admirer turns out to be a dangerous stalker, Hermione realizes that she needs more than just her wand. Who will be assigned to help her? And will it be strictly a business relationship? Roses are beautiful, until you find the thorns.

DISCLAMIER: The ideas in this story are all my own; any overlapping ideas with any other story on are purely unintentional. Some characters are my own, and all the original ones belong to JK Rowling/Warner Bros.

Chapter 3: The Third Task of Admiration

Date: September 2, 2004

Time: 10:30 AM

Subject: Hermione Granger

Event: The Day before Students return to Hogwarts

Place: The Granger's Apartment, Surrey, England.

Everything was back to normal, and had been for the past month. Hermione had finished her summer job as a Charm Model and was getting ready to start her last and final year at Hogwarts. She spent the whole morning in Diagon Alley buying new books and robes and was excited to come home and spend the remainder of the day with her parents.

Flashback

Books. Everywhere. There were small ones, big ones, red ones, blue ones, new one and old ones; hundreds and hundreds of adventures begging to be opened and read. Hermione gently brushed her hand against the binding of a dusty leather book that had caught her eye and plucked it from its haven among the others.

"_Les Significations du Rose"_, Hermione read the gold, loopy title with her superb French accent. Carefully flipping the weathered, thin pages of the book, she found a small chart with pictures of different colored roses decorating the pages.

_Rose Colors and Their Meanings _

_Red: love, respect, congratulations, romance  
Dark red: unconscious beauty  
White: purity, innocence, I am worthy of you  
Pink: appreciation, grace, perfection  
Yellow: joy, gladness, friendship  
Orange/Coral: desire, enthusiasm  
Lavender: love at first sight  
Black: death, farewell_

"Well now isn't that interesting?" Hermione said out loud as she carefully nestled the book back where it came from, storing the content of the book in her head.

"Interesting? How so Granger?" a drawling voice came from behind.

"Malfoy. How nice to see you here," Hermione replied as she turned around to face the speaker, her voice dripping with tangible sarcasm.

Ignoring her rudeness, Draco pulled the book out that Hermione had previously been looking at. "A sudden interest in herbology? Hmm… I didn't take you for that type. You are more of the bookish type; history maybe, but not herbology."

"Oh shut it Malfoy. It's none of your business what I am up to." Hermione replied, attempting to snatch the book from him.

But Draco was quicker, "Not so fast Granger, you've got me enticed with your sudden interest in roses," Draco flipped open the book and muttered a spell to turn to the last page Hermione was reading. "Meanings of roses?" Draco read in his baritone voice, "What's all this about? Trying to start a garden to have some pretty to cover up the fact that you're a mudblood? Or are you trying to get the attention of… some muggle?" he smirked, placing the book back on the shelf.

"What's it to you, Malfoy?" Hermione snarled, feeling the red heat shine across her face, determined not to let him get the best of her, "At least I _have_ something to do this summer, rather than doing every guy in sight, like you and your female fanclub."

"What's it to you?" Draco mocked Hermione's higher pitched voice, "and I actually have been doing something this summer," Draco mocked a shocked face, "something more productive than even the Miss Mudblood Know It All."

Hermione bit her lip slightly and looked Draco straight in the eyes, giving him the coldest look she could muster. "Go to Hell Malfoy."

"Cause without you they're never gonna let me in…" 

End Flashback

Gliding across the shiny, tiled foyer in her parents apartment, with her new books and robes bundled together in bags hanging from both of her arms, Hermione felt something vibrate in her back pocket.

"Oh darn," Hermione sighed as she rushed up the stairs so she could set her bags down and answer her phone. She turned around and used her hips to open the door, swaying into her room and quickly dropping her bags next to her bed.

The phone had already stopped playing the catchy ring tone when she finally was able to answer it, and in bolded, block letters the screen read 'ONE MISSED CALL'.

Clicking 'okay', another message popped up on the screen, 'ONE NEW VOICE MESSAGE'. Hermione clicked 'listen' and put her phone on speaker so she could start on packing her bags.

"One unheard message," the lady on her voicemail said in her monotone voice, "first unheard message…"

_"To lie in a bed of roses,  
__To feel the silkiness against my skin,  
__The fragrance  
__How it comforts me  
__Though feeling so alone,  
__Once again.  
__There was a time  
__When skies weren't cloudy,  
__And it seldom ever rained,  
__But as the clouds begin to rumble,  
__Once again there's so much pain.  
__So I'll lie in my bed of roses,  
__And wait till the storm subsides,  
__And use the petals from my bed,  
__To wipe up the tears I've cried."_

By this time, Hermione had froze, her fingers still gingerly wrapped around her new robe and her eyes glued to her cell phone, lying innocently on her bed.

"No… no..." Hermione whispered in a raspy voice as she involuntarily looked out her window, expecting to see someone there, staring at her. Instead, all she saw was the ever steady rain, falling and falling towards the ground, creating dreary puddles wherever it fell.

After a slight pause, the message continued, in the same smooth, confident voice:

"Hermione, mon plus grand amour, Hermione, dearest. What ails you so? I watch as you have become so cautious: always holding your wand erect as you walk down dark alleys; always checking a room before you enter it; slowly opening the door and peering in from behind the safety of that barrier. Why? Are you afraid? Do I frighten you? I mean you no harm- as long as you stay loyal to me- my voice. Let me take you to a place, one filled with passion and love, something you have always wanted, isn't that right? Knowing that you are loved, and mean everything to someone. I can give you everything you have ever wanted; I can fulfill you, and make you whole again. Good surprises come to those who wait patiently. Do not dread our meeting, love, for I will see you soon…"

The voice trailed off, but finished the sentence in a more demurring voice, "…and make you mine… forever."

There was a popping noise, and Hermione watched as her phone began to melt, and transfigure itself into a new shape.

Hermione's jaw dropped and felt the blood drain from her face, as the phone became a dark, blood red rose, filling the room with a distinctive fragrance.

Hermione crossed her hands against her chest, as if protecting her heart, and slowly walked backwards, trying to get as far away as possible from the rose on her bed. She kept walking and walking, until she felt a pair of hands lay gently on her shoulders.

"Ahhhh!" she shrieked as she whipped around, hands in the air, ready to fight whoever came her way.

"Hermione?" Mr. Granger asked, concerned by his daughter's curious behavior, "What's the matter, dear? Are you okay?" He was truly concerned, for Hermione's appearance had drastically changed from the ever-glowing young woman, to a Casper the Ghost look-a-like.

Mr. Granger embraced her tightly; her trembling body unceasing and shaking almost as fast as her heart beat. "What happened? Should I get your mum?"

"No…no…" Hermione's shaky voice replied in the only words she could comprehend at the time.

"What do you need, honey, is there anything I can get you? Can you at least tell me what is wrong?" Mr. Granger asked his hand soothingly patting her back, now truly worried about his daughter's well being.

Hermione thought about it for a second, and pulled back from her father's hug. "I need to go see the Weasley's, dad. I'm going to floo over there."

"Floo?" Mr. Granger asked, skeptically.

"Mr. Weasley hooked us up the Floo Network about a month ago, remember?"

"Oh yes, that's right. Well then try to be back before diner; you know your mum wants to have one last family diner before you are off to Hogwarts," he said, as he stared at her, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Will do, dad. Thank you," Hermione said as she turned again to look at the rose still on her bed. "Oh, and I might need that. Accio Tupperware." Hermione whispered, as a small Tupperware container floated towards her. Catching it in one hand, she carefully picked up her once-cell phone and placed it in the container, before tightly sealing the lid.

Walking over the to fireplace, she gave her father a quick peck on the cheek and stepped in, "The Weasley's!"

xoxo

Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen magically stirring all of her pots and preparing diner for her large family. Humming quietly, she hurriedly turned around when she heard a pop at her fireplace.

"Oh! Oh, it's just you Hermione, dear! How have you been? Ron will be so glad to see you!" Mrs. Weasley pressed Hermione in a tight hug before running over to the stairs.

"Ronald! Hermione is here! Come down and visit!" she yelled before returning back to Hermione. "Ginny is at one of her friend's house, but I'm sure she'll be sorry she missed you."

Hermione heard the running of footsteps down the stairs and across the hall, before she was greeted with one of her best friends.

"Hermione!" Ron smiled, as he squeezed Hermione in a bear hug, his flat, muscular chest pressing against her.

"What brings you here, Mione?" Ron asked, as Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen as well, curious to know the reason of Hermione's unexpected visit.

"Well, to be honest, I need your advice, and help," Hermione began, wondering how to begin.

She quickly told them what had happened, knowing they were already familiar with her situation, as they had already helped her once in the past with her mysterious stalker.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Mrs. Weasley mumbled, as Ron embraced Hermione again.

"Don't worry, Mione, we will help you," Ron said, his brotherly instincts for Hermione kicking in.

"Dear, I'm afraid we might have to report this to the ministry, for your own good," Mrs. Weasley said, as she wrung her hands together. "Ron, owl your father and tell him we will be arriving at his office shortly with Hermione. We will have to inform dear old Mr. Fudge about this."

xoxo

"So let me get this straight, Miss Granger," Cornelius Fudge asked, as he sat across from Hermione at his big, oak desk. "You say you have been receiving mysterious letters, calls, and roses from your so-called-stalker?"

"Correct, sir. And this might possibly interest you as well," Hermione answered, pulling out her Tupperware container from her robe pocket, filled with her cell phone rose.

Fudge took the container from the witch's hands, and cautiously opened the lid. "A rose…so? Is there any significance to this?" he asked, incredulously as he removed the rose from the container and twirled it in his fingers.

"Actually sir, that was my cell phone. After I had listened to the message 'he' left me on my phone, my phone transfigured into a rose."

"Oh?" Fudge said, suddenly more interested in the rose. He opened the desk drawer and removed his wand from a black velvet case. Taping the rose and muttering a spell Hermione had never heard before, the rose transformed back into her familiar cell phone. "Do you mind if I listen to the message?"

"Sure," Hermione replied, curious to see what the Minister would have to say about her message.

Fudge looked at the phone, and turned it over a few times. With a slight red tinge coloring his cheeks, he handed Hermione the phone, "Uhhh.. how?"

Hermione laughed and took the phone from him, then turned it on and dialed her voicemail. "Here you go, all set" Hermione handed him back the phone.

Fudge listened in disbelief as Hermione's secret admirer proclaimed his love to her, wondering how such a young girl could get so much attention.

When the message was done playing, Fudge carefully set the phone down on his desk, its silver appearance clashing with his redwood desk finish.

"Well, Miss Granger, Molly was right, we are going to have to take action with this to prevent you from getting hurt. Normally, I would request that you be given a personal, well, lets call it your personal 'protector', but seeing as you are leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow, this might present some problems. It would be highly difficult for me to send with you a professional wizard, seeing as an adult following you around school might look suspicious. But I think I might have a solution to this problem. We've been working on a training program this summer, and I think I have just the right person to help you."

"Who?" Hermione asked, anxious to know who was being assigned to her case.

"You will see tomorrow once I have confirmed his job. I will instruct him to meet you tomorrow in compartment 12 on the Hogwarts Express. Go there immediately once you arrive on the train."

Hermione nodded her head.

"I will contact you if we have any new leadings on your case."

"Thank you so much, Minister," Hermione replied, as she began to walk out of his office.

"Anytime, Miss Granger. And remember," he yelled after her, "don't fret too much, Hogwarts and its surroundings and professors will protect you."

xoxo

A/N: Wow. I apologize for taking almost half a year to update again. I've been so busy with school, and have had no free time (or inspiration) to write. Thank you so much for all of the reviews that I still continued to receive even though I hadn't been updating. You guys are amazing, and I truly appreciate it. Until next time (which I promise will be sooner…)

The poem is called _My Own Bed of Roses_ By Leigh Anne Dawson


	4. And the Lucky Person Is

DISCLAMIER: The ideas in this story are all my own; any overlapping ideas with any other story on are purely unintentional. Some characters are my own, and all the original ones belong to JK Rowling/Warner Bros.

Chapter 4: And the Lucky Person Is…

Date: September 23, 2004

Time: 7:30 AM

Subject: Draco Malfoy

Event: The Assignment

Place: The Ministry of Magic

_Tradition pulled him one direction,_

_And Destiny fought to drag him the other way_

_Tug-of-war can only continue for some time_

_Because one side has to win_

"Draco!" Narcissa Malfoy yelled, her voice echoing though the spacious corridors in the Malfoy Mansion.

Draco rolled over in bed, becoming tangled up in his silk sheets. He buried his head in his pillow, fruitlessly attempting to block out his mother's voice…

…With no success.

Narcissa walked nimbly down the hall; her small, elegant footsteps patting softly against the carpet, and leaving little matted down holes wherever her high-heeled shoes happened to land.

Upon reaching Draco's room, at the very far end of the hallway, she rapped her hands sharply against his door, waking him up from what she liked to call his 'beauty sleep'.

"Draco, dear, the Minister just called and left you a very important message. He needs you to come to the Ministry as soon as possible, _before_ school starts." Narcissa carefully opened the door and slowly stuck her head in, to make sure the blonde haired boy was not still buried beneath the covers.

She was very well aware of his game…

…And she knew all the tricks.

Walking into his room, she waved her wand, illuminating the room in bright colored lights. She peeled back the covers and pulled out the pillow from under his head.

The only surefire way to wake up a teenager.

"Now, don't look at me like that. You heard me; get up."

Narcissa walked out of the room, leaving a very unpleasant Draco sitting upright.

xoxo

Now dressed, but still grumpy from having to wake up especially early, Draco walked into Cornelius Fudge's office.

"Ahh! Mr. Malfoy!" Fudge stood up and walked out from behind his desk to shake Draco's hand," I'm so glad you were able to come in, especially at this late of notice."

"Of course Minister. What am I being summoned here for?" Draco asked, getting straight to the point, in his typical, nonchalant way.

"Ah, never one for small talk, eh Mr. Malfoy?" Fudge replied, sitting back in his chair.

"Call me Draco sir; no need for formalities." Draco corrected, also sitting down across from Fudge.

"Of course, Draco. Now, I have a special case that has come up within the wizarding world. Under normal circumstances, I would be using a professional to do this job, but the problem is, this isn't a normal circumstance." Fudge began.

Draco nodded, indicating that he was still following him.

Fudge continued on, "You see," Fudge began, twiddling his thumbs, "this case involves one of the students at Hogwarts, your year I think, and I think it might be suspicious if we have an adult following her around at school. Since everybody already knows you there, less suspicion will be raised, and you will still be able to protect her…"

"Her?" Draco asked, now more interested in the case, "Who is it?"

Fudge, unaware of the rift between Hermione and Draco replied truthfully, "Hermione Granger."

Draco cursed under his breath and loudly scooted his chair back in outrage, "Sir, with all do respect, but I don't think I am going to be able to do this case. Me helping Granger would look more suspicious than any of your other employees." Draco stood up, and allowed his hands to fiddle with his belt loops.

"Oh?" Fudge asked curiously, "and why not?"

"She's a mudb- I mean," Draco paused, lost for words, "it's just a common fact that we _do not_ get along."

"And all the more reason you will stay assigned to this case, Draco," Fudge scowled, "She will be waiting for you in compartment 12 on the Hogwarts Express; you are to go there straight away. She will brief you on the case when you get there."

Draco took a deep breath to control his anger, "Compartment 12, right," and began to walk out of the office, seething.

"Oh, and Draco, one more thing," Fudge yelled after him, "I will notify Professor Dumbledore about this case. You will hear from me shortly!"

Draco slammed the door and walked out of the room.

xoxo

The train was already ready for departure and student's bags were packed carefully in their compartments. Hermione was standing on her tiptoes, desperately trying to push her carry on bag into the overhead compartment.

Just as it was almost past the point of it falling over on top of her, Draco Malfoy ungracefully pulled open the compartment door and sauntered inside, startling Hermione and causing her to lose her balance and fall backwards; her bag landing on top of her.

"No wonder you need somebody to protect you, Mudblood," Draco mumbled as he pulled the bag off her and held out a hand to help her up.

Hermione ignored the hand and looked at it with utter disdain, helping herself up.

"You?" she said contemptuously, "Great, I'm going to need somebody to protect me from my protector."

Hermione snatched her bag out of Draco's hands and walked across the red carpeted, narrow passage, to the seat closest to the window, and furthest away from Draco.

"Your welcome," Draco snarled, and sat diagonally across from Hermione, who was busy looking out the window and ignoring him.

The trees and the clouds were one big rainbow blur. Every once in awhile you could see a flying car, similar to the one Ron and Harry had destroyed in years past. How could time have gone by so fast? It had only been 6 years ago since her best friends and her had encountered Voldermort, and 3 years since the Triwizard Tournament. What happened to all those years? All those memories still trapped in her mind, waiting to be released by her thoughts. And the memories of Draco and her; their hatred always evident in every one. Now that he was assigned to help her, would those memories still say the same? Of course they would; he was Draco Malfoy, pureblood, richest heir in the Wizarding world, and son of a Death Eater. And who was she? Sure she was known fairly well throughout Hogwarts; her grades being the finest of her year, and possibly throughout the history of the school, but when it came down to it, would she be remembered? She was muggle-born after all. Would she just disappear after Hogwarts, not bothering to continue on in the Wizarding world because of her heritage? Or would she continue on, burying her muggle ancestry and adding it to her closet of skeletons?

Knowing now was not the time to say anything, Draco kept quiet and stared at Hermione, studying her, and getting a feel for his new "client" as Fudge put it. He absentmindedly picked at the red pleather seat, forming a little rip, which became a bigger rip, and finally a noticeable tear, the stuffing coming out and spilling onto the floor, like cotton candy.

Hermione looked up, hearing the sound of ripping fabric, half expecting to see Draco rip his shirt off, which he was known to do in front of many girls. The fact that she was muggle born, and best friends with Harry Potter brought her back to reality.

"Reparo," Hermione muttered, and watched as the seat repaired itself.

Draco looked up at her, taken back by her action. His shock quickly wore off, and he replaced it with his familiar Malfoy smirk and one of his witty comebacks, "So the Mudblood can't let her precious Hogwarts property be damaged, huh?"

"No, Ferret," Draco cringed at her word choice, "I don't want to be charged with _your_ vandalizing."

"Whatever, Muddy," Draco replied, nonchalantly, knowing how his affectionate nickname would effect her.

Hermione stood up, knowing that the name-calling wasn't going to work. "Listen," she took a deep breath, preparing herself, "Draco," Draco's eyes were now firmly attached to Hermione when he heard her say his real name, "If we are going to work together in this 'business relationship' we need to a couple of things clear."

Draco rolled his eyes, but allowed Hermione to continue.

"First of all, you work for me. You heard me right, don't go checking your ears, unless you think some of that ferret hair is still limiting your hearing; you were hired to help me. Therefore, and secondly, I can dismiss you at anytime I want. And thirdly, from now on, we are going to treat each other civilly. I will always still hate you, and you will still always hate me, but we can smile though closed teeth, right?" Hermione stared at him for another second, finalizing what she just said.

Contrary to the reaction she was hoping for, Draco burst out laughing. "But my dear _Hermione_," Draco began, making sure he had a Cheshire cat smile, and his voice stressed, "don't you remember in the _Muggle _world, you can quit your job at anytime."

Hermione smiled, her eyes glittering, "Not if you want to continue your precious job in the future with the dear, old, Minister"

Defeated, and shocked by her retort, Draco backed down, his smile becoming a barely noticeable pout not uncommon for the boy who _always_ received what he wanted.

xoxo

The welcoming feast was always the best of the year; everything was back to normal and old friends were catching up on the excitements of each other's summer. Delicious food adorned every table, decorating it like a jeweled crown. Pumpkin juice was spilled on the first year's section of the table by those not used to the elegance of the china and golden goblets, and magically disappeared as soon as it had touched the fine linen. First years oh'd and ah'd at the tingling sensation that the magic and in the air gave to all unfamiliar with it.

Hermione smiled; she couldn't have been more excited about seeing all her friends again. Harry with his typical messy hair, scattered over his forehead and slightly covering his scar; and sweet Ron with his innocent boyish smile always found on his face.

It was good to be back, in every sense of the word good. She was so excited about the year ahead that Hermione had even forgotten about Draco and her stalker- for a couple hours at least.

The feast was soon over almost as quickly as it had started. The mirthful laughter began to fade away, and the tables had magically cleared themselves. All the students had filed out of the hall, lead by the Head Boy and Girl, which surprisingly wasn't Hermione and Draco, both top of their class; one of the reasons why Professor Dumbledore had requested the two stay behind, so he could talk to them.

Dumbledore walked down from the teacher's platform to greet the two students, standing at least 15 meters away from each other. "Ah Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. Who ever would have thought that oddest of friendships would be formed, in order to help one in need."

Draco interrupted him, "Excuse me Professor, but I think you might have mixed some of the facts up. Gra- Hermione and myself are more or acquaintances than what yours or my definition of friends might be."

Dumbledore's smile turned down slightly into a frown, but quickly recovered it, "Very well then, Mr. Malfoy. If you say so," now turning to face to the more pleasant Hermione, as well, "Shall I show you to your room?"

"Our room? As in singular?" Hermione asked, skeptically.

Draco's eyes widened, as Dumbledore nodded and continued on, "Well, not necessarily the same room, but the Minister requested that you have close living quarters, in order for Draco to do his job properly. Although I guarantee you Hogwarts is the safest place you will ever stay at, Miss Granger, Cornelius feels that you would be safer, just in case an accident like the Sirius Black fiasco, if Mr. Malfoy be near you."

Hermione nodded slowly, and bit her lip. This will be interesting, she couldn't help but think.

"Now, if you'll follow me," Dumbledore said, as he began walking with the two students in tow towards one of the many halls in Hogwarts, "I'll show you your room**_s_**."

xoxo

Behind a beautiful portrait of a small garden nymph playing quietly behind the tall dandelions, lay a room that could only be described as a watercolor painting.

Splashes of red, green, gold, and black covered their shared common room. The walls were covered in gold foil, and if one could manage to scrape a strip of it off, they could make a decent golden ring. Big black overstuffed leather couches and chairs were placed strategically throughout the room, finding all of the cozy spots and making their homes there. Burgundy afghans were draped over the couches, and green velvet pillows of every shape and size adorned ever corner of the couches. They reminded Hermione of the ones her grandma used to make for her, comforting her in the coldest winters. Black, lacy drapes covered the gigantic windows, perfectly positioned to catch the sunset, which Hermione thought, as she noticed the small loveseat couch in front of it, could be a romantic spot- if she was living here with somebody other than a block of ice. A small fire was popping in the fireplace and Hermione decided that if she had to spend the whole year with Draco, at least she would do so in a nice living arrangement.

After allowing Draco and Hermione to take in their new surroundings, Professor Dumbledore led them to their own rooms, starting with Hermione's. A spiral, rod iron staircase led up to a small platform with an oaken door leading to Hermione's room. The colors of the room were similar to their common room, except there was no green and black. Oriental rugs covered the floor, and on top of them was a big queen sized canopy bed with millions of pillows decorating it. A few paintings festooned the wall, and heavy curtains, which Dumbledore said were for her own safety, were halfway open across large, arching windows. In the corner of her room was a door that led to her own bathroom similar to one of the perfect bathrooms.

Draco's room was the door next to Hermione's, both being on the top of the staircase. His was similar to Hermione's, except instead of a red and gold color theme, he had a mainly green and black room, with a completely black bed and silken sheets.

"Wow," Hermione remarked, when the tour was over, "This is wonderful, Professor. I hope we haven't caused too much of a trouble to get this all set up."

Dumbledore smiled, "There is nothing I wouldn't do to ensure the safety of my students."

"Yea, thanks, Professor. It's great," Draco said as he slowly retreated back into his room.

After Draco had closed his door, Dumbledore escorted Hermione back down the stairs and into the common room. "As you know tomorrow is Saturday, and since we have no classes then, I advise you to begin to inform Mr. Malfoy of your case, if he hasn't already been informed."

"Certainly, Professor. I was planning on doing it in the train, but circumstances arised and I figured it would be easier to tell him on a later basis. I will definitely do so tomorrow."

"Of course, Miss Granger. I will check in on you at a later date. Good night." Dumbledore exited through the portrait, leaving Hermione all alone in the common room.

She sat down on the couch in front of the fire, and took the blanket down, wrapping herself in it tightly. Shadows danced across the room as the flames in the fireplace changed shapes. She stared up at the ceiling, noticing how it was enchanted to look like the night sky outside. A shooting star raced across the ceiling, and Hermione couldn't help but wish that she would finally be safe at Hogwarts.

xoxo

A/N: Well, I'd definitely say that was a much quicker update, right? I'll try to update at least once a week from now on-most likely on Saturdays.

Thank you to everybody who reviewed- you have no idea how happy that makes me:

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TheConductorsLEASTfavorite (Don't worry, I agree with every point you made, so I will definitely try not to let those shape my writing.)

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Whippy Bird (Yay! Thank you for the really, really sweet review!)

Venus728 (I'm so glad you stuck with it. I remember your reviews from the very beginning, so when I saw your name on the review… lets just say it made my day!)


	5. Let Me Get This Straight

DISCLAMIER: The ideas in this story are all my own; any overlapping ideas with any other story on are purely unintentional. Some characters are my own, and all the original ones belong to JK Rowling/Warner Bros.  
**A/N:** This chapter has a bit more language then previous chapters, because this is how I imagine Blaise in my head, so let me know how you guys feel about that. Should I change the rating?

Chapter 5: Let Me Get This Straight

Draco woke up relatively early that morning, not quite able to get a decent night sleep in his new surroundings. He closed his eyes again, not wanting to get out of bed yet. How he got himself into this he was quite sure, but he wasn't exactly complaining either; sleeping in a room all by yourself, with your own common room was much better than sharing one with some of his so called friends. Well, he had one good friend, that he could actually trust, Blaise Zambini, but that was about it. Blaise and him had been friends ever since they were little, because their dads "worked" together.

Draco got up, and let his feet dangle over the bedside for a couple of seconds before touching them to the rug-covered floor. Walking over to his bathroom, he took off his shirt, leaving him only in his boxers. He noticed the walk in shower in the corner; a stone tunnel that led to a clearing at the end, from which water fell like rain from above. He pulled off his boxers as well, and turned a lever, the water now beginning to rain onto his smooth body.

The relaxing shower could only last so long, so he walked out and grabbed one of the big, white towels hanging on a hook. Wrapping it around his waist, he walked back into his room, got dressed, magically made his bed, and walked down the spiral staircase. He noticed Hermione's door was shut, so he continued walking. The fire had long died out, and the only noise was the quiet breathing of the sleeping Hermione. He walked over towards her and looked over her sleeping body.

How badly he wanted to rip the blanket off her, just to annoy her, but he found that he couldn't because she looked so innocent and vulnerable lying there.

Scowling at his weakness, Draco stormed off, loudly, to go find Blaise in the Slytherin Common Room.

xoxo

When Draco walked in (he was given the password to his own house), he found Blaise sitting on the couch with a pretty blonde sitting on his lap. He was whispering quietly in her ear, and she kept giggling over what he said.

Draco rolled his eyes. This was a prime example of Blaise at his finest: a lady's man.

The blonde noticed Draco before Blaise, and stopped giggling when she saw his cold appearance; as if frightened he would curse her if she made one more noise. Blaise noticed this and looked up at his friend.

"Gee Draco, either fucking them or scaring them," Blaise smirked and sat up, the petite blonde getting off his lap, "Hey Violet, I'm going to talk with Draco for a while. I'll find you later, okay?" Blaise winked at her and patted her rear before she nodded and took off towards the girl's dormitories.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" Blaise asked Draco, referring to his new girlfriend, "She isn't the brightest bulb, but man is she a feline in bed."

Draco shook his head as Blaise laughed. "So how'd your summer go? Meet any chicks?" Blaise was the only person besides Draco's mother that knew how Lucius treated Draco. When times got really bad, Draco would often stay at Blaise's for a couple of days.

"You know, Zambini, you have a one track mind: girls, sex, chicks, and your broomstick."

Blaise laughed once he got the sexual innuendo, "Good to have you back, man. I was getting a little worried there," he slapped Draco on the back, a manly way of endearment, and more seriously, "So what _did_ you do this summer, if you didn't hook up with the woman?"

"Hey stop bringing my sex life into everything," Draco asked, referring to the group of girls hovering in the corner, trying to listen to Draco and Blaise's conversation, "I got a job with the ministry. Well, it was more of a training camp. Father wanted me to sign up so I would 'look good' in the eyes of the ministry. Basically so they don't suspect me of becoming a Death Eater."

"And are you?" Blaise asked suspiciously.

"Am I what?"

"Going to become a Death Eater," Blaise knew his best friend better than anybody else, but when the subject matter involved the Dark Lord, he could never be certain on his friend's motives.

Draco looked around, checking to make sure nobody was listening in on their conversation, "I haven't quite decided yet. Sure father wants me to more than anything, but I don't know. It seems so," Draco paused, for lack of better words.

"Wrong, and there is no turning back," Blaise finished for him.

"Exactly. Turning back isn't what I'm afraid of though. I'm never going to marry, so I won't have somebody like my wife getting involved; I just don't' know."

"Oh, so Drakie's an afraid bachelor," Blaise joked, in a voice sounding strangely high pitched like Pansy's.

"Of course not, idiot. I am not afraid of anything, or anyone," Draco said a bit louder than he intended, causing heads to turn.

The meek voice of a small first year spoke up, "Not even Harry Potter?"

The common room turned silent. Draco spun on his heels and allowed his eyes to bore down upon diminutive boy, now singled out in the crowd of listeners. He slowly walked over to him, counting in his head to 10 in a weak attempt to calm himself down. Draco put his big hands on the boy's small shoulders, squeezing harder than what was necessary and sure to leave bruises, and lowered his face so it was only inches away from the terrified boy's nose.

"Especially not Harry Potter," Draco hissed, venom coating his words.

He pushed the boy back into the crowd as he let go, and walked over towards Blaise, "Come on," he said quietly, not waiting to find out if Blaise followed him through the portrait.

xoxo

Draco stormed down the corridors, Blaise running along to catch up with him, disbelief hidden in his eyes. What had Lucius done to him this summer that had caused him to get like this, Blaise wondered. Blaise had seen Draco mad, and even furious before, but he had _never_ seen Draco let his anger out in a physical way. The way Draco pushed the little boy down was too far.

Blaise caught up to Draco and grabbed him by the shoulders, shoving him into the stone wall. "What the hell did you do that for Draco?"

"You know what Blaise, fuck off. I don't need _you_ questioning my antics too." Draco replied, trying to shove his friend aside.

But Blaise had always been the stronger of the two, "No way, dude. There is no way in hell I am letting you go until you fess up."

Draco knew that Blaise was stronger and had no hope at getting away unless he talked first. "Fine, you win," Draco said, his cold eyes avoiding contact with Blaise's.

Blaise released him, but still stood guard. "Draco, if anyone of those at least 20 people watching reports you, you are in deep shit."

Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't reply.

"Why'd you do it, man? There has to be something else. I've never seen you get like this? What is it?" Blaise knew something else was there, hidden deep within Draco that he had to get out.

Draco took a deep breath, "Mudblood Granger."

"Granger, what does that chick have to do with anything? And might I add; she has been lookin' mighty fine this year," Blaise said, licking his lips.

"No, you can't add that." Draco scowled, although he had to admit, she _was_ looking fine this year. No more bushy hair, and she even wore a tiny bit of makeup, to enhance her natural beauty that she had inadvertently kept hidden all those years. But of course, he would _never_ admit to that.

"Well, then if you don't want her, I'll take her," Blaise grinned.

"Haha. How about not?" Draco retorted, somehow feeling a sense of protectiveness about Hermione. It is just the job description, that's all, Draco couldn't help but correct himself.

"Ooooh…" Blaise teased, "So there is something between you two. What? Did you find her snogging Weasley or something?"

"Shove it Zambini. No, remember that summer internship I got? Well, it's kind of like a police force, not quite Aurors, in the Wizarding world. I was assigned to protect Granger for the school year, or hopefully, as soon as I am notified."

"Protect her? Shouldn't she be afraid of you?" Blaise asked, curious to why Draco Malfoy would voluntarily help Hermione Granger without a fair fight. No, scratch that: a fight.

"Ha. That's exactly what she said. Or as she put it, 'Great, now I am going to need somebody to protect me from my protector.'" Draco quoted, surprised that he was able to remember that.

"Nice dude. Maybe I can protect her from you," Blaise grinned and shoved his friend lightly in the side.

"Wait, I thought you were with that Violet chick?" Draco asked, confused at Blaise's sudden interest in Hermione.

"Ah. She's good, but if a better one came up, I'd grab her in a heartbeat. Look at Hermione for example. Smokin' looks, really smart, has a personality; what else do you want in a girl?"

Draco paused for a second. What else _did _he want in a girl? He smirked his famous smile, "Nothing. I'm going to be a bachelor the rest of my life. You know, have a couple of affairs once in a while, but nothing long term and committed," _so I'm not tempted to hurt her like Lucius does to my mother_, Draco finished silently.

"You're one strange fucker, you know that? So, have you found out what you are supposed to protect Granger from?" Blaise asked.

"Nope. I was going to find out yesterday on the train, but things happened," Draco replied, remembering that he still didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"So something or somebody could be kidnapping her at this very moment, and you would be blamed because you weren't there to help her. Sucker!" Blaise jabbed Draco in the ribs.

Even though it was meant as a joke, Blaise was completely right, "Oh shit," Draco said, as he started running towards his common room.

"Gee Draco, I didn't mean to worry you, I'm sure she's fine," Blaise yelled after him, as Draco began to extend the distance between them.

Draco didn't pay attention, and he certainly wasn't running to go check on her for her sake. He knew that if she was in trouble, it would be _his_ ass-kicking from both Fudge _and_ his father.

xoxo

Draco and Blaise had reached Draco's and Hermione's room and quickly walked through the portrait. The blankets on the couch from where Hermione had been sleeping earlier were tousled on the floor, and the window was cracked open a tiny bit; a slight breeze coming into the room and causing the curtains to billow out and make columns of air.

Draco looked around. Where was she? He ran up the stairs; almost missing the fifth step in his rush and falling down. He cursed under his breath and mumbled, "Remember, this is your job, not your choice."

If it were actually his choice, he would never in a million years go around looking for Hermione.

Draco knocked on her door several times and got no answer. He tried the doorknob; it was locked. Taking out his wand, he muttered a charm and the door swung open, allowing the fragrance of Hermione's room overwhelm him. She wasn't in her room either. He walked over to the bathroom door, which he found was locked. He said the same charm as he used before, and the door opened, revealing an extremely shocked Hermione staring wide-eyed at him from her bubble bath, her hands flailing in dramatic attempts to cover herself in the bubbles that had already begun to disappear.

"Malfoy!" she screeched, forgetting their pact to not call each other by their surnames.

Draco's eyebrows raised, but he didn't say anything. He quickly turned around and quickly said a shy sorry right before he shut the door.

Down below, Blaise heard a female screeching and the slamming of doors and decided to go check out the problem. He rushed up the stairs, practically knocking over Draco who was slowly retreating away from the bedroom.

"What happened, Draco?" Blaise asked curiously, as the two of them headed down the stairs; Draco following Blaise who had his head turned around to hear the reply.

"I found Granger alright," Draco said, drawing in a quick breath.

"And…" Blaise continued.

"And I found her dressed only in bubbles from her bath that she was _currently_ taking," Draco bit his lip, knowing what Blaise's reply would be.

"You saw Hermione Granger naked!" Blaise exclaimed excitedly, a bit louder than Draco hoped for.

"No not naked, dumbass. She was covered in bubbles," Draco lied. He forgot to mention how when Hermione had turned to yell at him, some of the bubbles had floated off, revealing a bit more on top than Hermione would have wanted if she had realized it.

"Hermione Granger naked," Blaise sighed in bliss, looking off into space.

And just at the moment, Hermione walked down the stairs, her hair still wet and tied back messily. She raised her eyebrows at Blaise, and looked curiously at Draco. "What is he talking about?" she asked coolly.

Blaise didn't say anything, so Draco nonchalantly answered for him, "Nothing, _Hermione_. Why would he be talking about you?"

Hermione nodded down towards the bulge forming in Blaise's pants. She gave a half-smile and slowly shook her head at him, quietly laughing with her mouth closed.

Blaise looked down and turned a color that could have made him a proud Gryffindor. "I… uhh… yea…"

"Just get out of here, Blaise. I'll come find you later," Draco smirked, obviously finding his friend's embarrassment amusing.

As soon as the back of Blaise's head disappeared through the portrait, Hermione sat down on the couch, her back facing Draco. "Sooo…" She filled the silence, not sure what to say.

Draco walked around and sat down on the chair adjacent to Hermione, "Well…" Draco said, having no idea what to say to Hermione. Should he apologize for walking in on her? Or worrying too much about something he had no idea what to worry about?

Apologizing seemed like the best icebreaker, "Sorry for walking in on you. I really didn't mean to, or want to either, for that matter."

Hermione smirked. She found it quite funny how Draco was able to twist an apology into an insult. "Ah, whatever; don't worry about it."

A few minutes of awkward silence past, both trying to think of something that might spark a conversation.

"So you still haven't told me the reason why I am here with you," Draco commented, glad he could think of something to break the silence.

"Why you are here with me?" Hermione asked, confused at what he was getting at.

"You know, the case Fudge assigned me to help you with…." Draco said, leading on her memory.

"Oh, that. Right," Hermione said, unsure of how to begin.

Hermione bit her lip and looked down at the floor, wishing Fudge or Dumbledore would have informed him of the case rather than her having to do it.

"Hermione?" Draco asked, noticing how timid and vulnerable she looked when he had mentioned the case. He leaned closer in his chair, although he was still a good distance away from Hermione. "You can talk to me, you know. I know we've always hated each other, but I've been though a lot of stuff; I've seen a lot of stuff that I wish I had never allowed my eyes to catch sight of; I promise anything you say probably won't shock me too much."

"It might not shock you," Hermione said, and then barely audible, "but you would never understand."

Draco suddenly looked up and caught her eyes, "Tell me everything," he said more as a demand than a request.

And Hermione told him everything. More than she had ever told the Weasley's, more than she had told Fudge; she told him everything from the very start, to the very moment they were at now.

Draco saw the tears forming at the corners of her eyes as she talked. He could sympathize with her about that fact that nobody really knew how she was feeling. Everybody expected her to just carry on, but nobody could realize the traumatizing effect it had on her. Knowing that you are being watched by someone you don't even know, and having no clue when the next attack will be, or how it will be done. Or what it was like to lie alone at night in your bed, in fear that you might not be there the next morning.

And the tears finally spilled out of her eyes, cascading down her face fashioning wet trails. Hermione placed her face in her hands, suddenly more ashamed than ever to be seen crying in front of her nemesis.

Draco got up and cautiously walked over to her. He took both of her hands away from her face and pulled her up into a standing position. He wrapped his arms around her in a comforting, fatherly way. Hermione looked up at him in surprise; her gaze full of astonishment. Draco squeezed her a little harder, to reassure her, and Hermione finally let down her guards and allowed her head to fall to the space right below his shoulder.

Both of them knew that the embrace was nothing more than the forming of a friendship. Nothing close to a lovers embrace, but something more along the lines of a secret handshake; a sign to show that they were in it for the long haul and most importantly, they were friends.

Draco closed his eyes, and when he was sure Hermione wasn't listening, whispered, "You will be safe with me."

xoxo

A/N: Well there… this is the longest chapter yet. And the most personality revealing, wouldn't you say? Tell me what you think of Blaise's character and if I need to tone him down a bit. What would you guys say if I changed the rating to 'M', which I probably will have to do before the story is finished (not necessarily for lemons, but for other maturer matter). Let me know… and please, please review!

Merci boucoup à:

SwimGoddess

PolishPrincess

Venus725

Redblackkittycat

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Gopher2806


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